Father John J. Lombardi
I wish to be dissolved and be with Christ"…
Father Damien, the "Leper Priest"-now known as Blessed Damien--didn't arrive on earth or the Island of
Molokai with a halo. Like all saints, he had to work at it…And God blessed him.
When he was simply "Brother Damien," in 1859, he lay on a bare floor in Belgium to take his vows as a
religious, and "died to the world." In this solemn ritual, a couple of brothers covered him with a long, black garment--like a
funeral pall--while a choir sang around him. Then a priest came up and blessed him with holy water. Damien was leaving one life
behind and beginning another: "I live no longer I, but Christ within me" (Gal. 2:20). Damien said, later in his life, after
being afflicted with leprosy, that the moment and way he took his vows in Belgium helped him to embrace the disease and "offer
his affliction up to God" as a sacrifice. Because he was willing to die to self-his own comforts, his world, family and way of
life-and follow Jesus, Damien had less to get in the way of Christ's healing and more to channel to those in need of God's
mercy.
This Sunday's Gospel (Mk. 2:1-12) depicts the heroic efforts by seekers of God's healing to bring
spiritual health to others; nothing would stop them from finding God and partaking of His merciful Love. The same was true of
Damien.
This man's story has attracted countless people through the ages-because of his gung-ho service to the
poor, sick and dying-and his unwavering commitment to Jesus Christ--he viscerally allures pilgrims. This chaplain heard stories
about this amazing man of God, and itched to "smell the odor of sanctity" in Molokai itself.
This past Christmas I heard Fr. George Restrepo, a Baltimore Jesuit priest, speak of how he was
pilgrimaging there in January, looking forward to saying Mass where Damien did. He said he wanted to literally "walk in the
footsteps of the Leper Priest." He related how Fr. Damien, in the height of his sickness, would awaken at night with pains and
memories, and pray the rosary while walking thru the nearby cemetery, thinking of the lepers' lives and his own ominous lot. Two
weeks ago, Fr. George got his wish: he walked two miles at night and then prayed in the graveyard just as Damien did. The
graveyard, church, and rectory, where Fr. Damien lived for fourteen years, are about the size of an acre: it's an incarnate
reminder of how intimately Damien and his people lived. Damien became one with his people and, like Jesus, chose no separation.
On one side of the priest's home and church was the furious ocean with stunning sea rocks, and on the other, just a short
distance, were ominous cliffs, making it seem more like a place of penalty rather than a paradise.
When I originally arrived in Molokai I was amazed by the encroaching mountain walls which overshadow the
small peninsula where Damien's village of Kilawao was. A newer settlement-Kalaupappa--population 50, with about 30 leprous
persons-was nearby where I stayed.
The present village priest, Fr. Joseph Hendricks is like Damien, from Belgium. He was a holy and kindly
man, always ready to accommodate me; and as he said jokingly, he's only eighty years old! After making a few spiritual trips
this priest has learned that each pilgrimage is unique, and that God sometimes gives a "subtle spiritual surprise." Meaning: the
pilgrim is looking for one thing and God gives him something-unexpectedly-as good and spiritually helpful, as part of the
journey. In this case, it was the witness of Fr. Hendricks. I grew in appreciation of his priestly commitment-over fifty years;
his missionary spirit and adventure; his love of God and his parishioners, his daily prayer and simplicity of life.
On Sunday I said Mass at the small hospital where most of those with leprosy live and are cared for.
They were a joyful bunch-singing and praising God, warm and gracious, desirous of the Eucharist, even as they prayed and
conversed with partial hands and walked with ill formed feet, bandaged bodies and bare eyesight. One man, though, away from the
crowd, worshiped in a nearby hallway, his body slumped over and somewhat sad; but he was joyful when I came to bring him Jesus
in Communion.
The hospital today is bright and well maintained by an array of nurses, on duty twenty four hours a day.
Fr. Damien could have used all this help in his day, but he certainly really had a knack for utilizing full participation of the
faithful. Witness: "St. Philomena's had holes in its floor for those who coughed and had to spit. The communion wafer was held
to tongues in remnants of mouths. One church organist, lacking most of the left hand, tied a piece of wood to the arm to sound
the low notes on the keyboard. At another time, two boys played the organ together, four-handed, but still not much more than
ten-fingered. The choir sang and sang, heartbreakingly well; and voice after voice was lost as throats were drained of strength
and life was exhausted" (from: Holy Man, page 116)…
When visiting Molokai one gradually witnesses the seemingly omnipresent and omnivorously-hovering sea
cliffs-two-thousand feet high. I eventually took a pathway to "walk in the footsteps of Fr. Damien." Walking up the steep cliffs
I found lots of shade from the blazing sun, and even a few mountain goats and some wild pigs. The trip up, today, is fairly easy
because of the intermittent steps and "switchbacks" (zig-zags-26 of them). But in Damien's time it would have been arduous to
climb-especially when carrying supplies and Mass items, as he often did, to visit the rest of the Island. When I finally arrived
"topside," as they say here, it was magnificent: views of white crashing waves upon the sea shore, the villages far below and
distant, eastward, and endless sky above. Walking further from the seashore, I was enshrouded by glistening fields of wheat and
vegetation, and could eventually see for a dozen miles clear to the other coast. I then explicitly realized just how imposing
the cliffs and sea were below where I was staying, in comparison to the openness of "topside". I thought how much more so it
must have been for the lepers-imprisoned there endlessly, without any hope of travel, mired in an exile of despair and disease.
I was only there for three days…
One day Fr. Hendricks invited me to say Mass at St Philomena's church, where Damien celebrated daily. I
asked Father to give a homily, some inspiring thoughts on "his brother priest, Damien."
In fatherly fashion he motioned me to sit down in a chair, and then mentioned how hard-working Damien
was, incessantly building huts, fixing pipe lines, celebrating the sacraments and burying the dead. He asked, "Where did all
this hard work came from? He eloquently answered: It began in, and was inspired by, Jesus Christ. I knew this was a precious
message of importance, and should not be overlooked: all of us need life firstly, and fore mostly, in Jesus Christ, and that He
will give us everything we need after that (see Rm 8:35). That's the story of the saints and all seekers of holiness. Damien
knew this kind of life had to start at the altar of God, with Jesus feeding him, "I am the Bread come down from Heaven" (Jn
6:51)...
Towards the end of his life, Molokai was not Shangri La for Fr. Damien. He had troubles with his
superiors and the government in Honolulu; the leper colony was in constant need of spiritual and social help and monitoring and,
besides, his health was failing-leprosy was eating at his body. This shows us that we should never despair even though our
projects, hopes and hard work seem fruitless. Despite trials, Damien kept focusing on: Jesus feeding His people in the
Eucharist; sacrificial solidarity in serving the poor, and selfless suffering for the redemption of souls. After an acute bout
with his leprosy and seemingly on his death bed, Fr. Damien got rejuvenated and, went up on top of St Philomena's Church to lay
stone, instead of prematurely giving in to death…He was on a mission: the man never wavered from being an instrument of Jesus in
the world.
But, Damien was human. He eventually died from leprosy-far away from his home, his family, distant from
his religious community, in the isolating world of Molokai. Of all the pictures this chaplain saw at Molokai, the most striking
one was a stark, black and white photograph of Damien on his deathbed. He is lying with his priestly vestments on, a
priest-stole around an arm, a medal he received from the King of Hawaii for his services lying at his side, his corroding ears
and bludgeoned face gazing motionless into an eerie eternity--and a crucifix of Jesus in his hands. The austere tone of the
large print was striking: black and white-no glitz or glamour, just like the man's life.
While visiting his grave side-with a Lai adorning a large concrete cross and bright, fresh flowers
growing out of the concrete cracks--I thought to myself: Damien didn't work any miracles like some other saints--why? His
miracle was his heroic, daily love amidst ugliness and sickness. God asks for sacrifices, not self made wonder workers.
Despite the tremendous challenges of his ministry, Fr Damien knew what would heal the lepers most-
Christ. Today's Gospel, describing the cunning friends of the sick man, making a hole in the roof where Jesus was visiting, and
lowering the man to Him, reminds this pilgrim of how the wise Damien inspired leprous people to help him worship the Lord. He
began a perpetual adoration society, wherein individuals would go before the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament of the Eucharist and
pray one hour, finding not only consolation and a "spiritual intersection of intercession", but a "hole" in the roof of the
sometimes merciless world where God Himself came down to man and, gives us the "medicine of immortality". Damien, leper priest,
lived, breathed and died as a man of God…
Meditations: How can I, like Damien, love God more intensely and with more time thru daily meditation,
regular Confession and Holy Eucharist?...How can I serve others-especially the poor, sick and dying, as Damien did-even until it
hurts? …And amidst time of possible war, how can I frequently focus on God's Providence and not be deterred by inordinate fears
and anxieties? "Perfect love casts out fear (I Jn. 4:18).
Briefly Noted
Culture of Death---Euthanasia is the intentional killing of human life; this will become more
common-even legislated in today's world. Catholics are united with the beautiful Virgin Mary by defending life, even the most
"disguised". Catholics are responsible to give to the dying, at least, proper food and drink and comfort them. Be informed,
merciful and heroic!
Quote of the week: "All men seek happiness, and all the unhappiness in the world comes from the fact
that they do not seek it, where they could find it"
Lent is coming: Plan, now, to fast, sacrifice, pray more, and love your neighbor thru selfless service…
Bible Readings: Is 43:18-19-25; 2 Cor 1:18-22; Mk 2:1-12
